


Wilderness

by Dr_Madwoman



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/F, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 01:59:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Madwoman/pseuds/Dr_Madwoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Your impatience won’t serve you well in the coming moments, Miss O’Brien.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wilderness

“We’ve been walking for ages- what in God’s name do you have planned?”

“Hush.”

Sarah glares at Elsie’s back and tightens her coat about herself to stave off the slight autumn chill. They’d left their flat nearly an hour ago, and Sarah is decidedly unimpressed with her lover’s plan to abandon civilization for all of _this._

Balefully Sarah stares around at their environment, attempting to fit a name to this desolate tangle of grasses and gnarled trees and flat gray sky. Elsie refuses to answer her questions, just keeps marching forward with that bloody dignified air of hers, as if this were merely a stroll about town.

“You’re not bringing me out here to do me in, are you?” she ventures, stifling a curse as she stumbles over a root. Elsie glances back over her shoulder, prim and aloof, but does not dignify Sarah’s question with a response.

Sarah shivers in the crisp air and sulks.

The forest is growing wilder as they press on, dense and dark like something out of a fairy story. Sarah snarls when a briar bush claws at her skirts, tearing greedily at the cloth as she storms by in Elsie’s wake.

“Christ almighty, woman, tell me there’s an end to this damnable fool errand of yours!”

Elsie stops so suddenly that Sarah nearly collides with her back; Sarah swallows when Elsie turns, snakes her arms around her hips and bring her close, claims her with a kiss that leaves her lips red and her heart knocking fast against her ribs.

“Your impatience won’t serve you well in the coming moments, Miss O’Brien.”

Her voice is pitched low, and the brogue is out and growling and Sarah shudders when she feels herself grow wet in response. There that light in Elsie’s eyes, that strange storm-light that Sarah so seldom sees and as Elsie leads her back into a small shadowed clearing she thinks for a moment of those stories Gran used to tell, about the people who lived under the hills back in the old land.

‘Neath the desire she feels a twinge of fear, prickling up the length of her spine and back again as Elsie draws her among the trees, into shadow and half-light, and that wildness in her woman grows with every passing moment as she unpins her hat and shucks her coat aside. Sarah stares, a bit disoriented, and looks around at their surroundings.

“What, out _here_? You’re bloody joking.”

Elsie makes no answer, merely fixes her with those eyes as she unbuttons the blouse, slides it over her milk-white arms, lets it drift down over leafrot and moss. Sarah’s nipples feel tight under her own clothes, and there’s an ache between her legs and a fire kindling in her belly and she _wants_ , she wants so badly, but she can’t show it, not just now.

“We can’t just rut around in the dirt and mold and things, we’re not _animals._ ”

Sarah stands and watches helplessly as Elsie steps out of her skirt and bends over to slide her stockings down thigh, calf, ankle, toes and Sarah notes at the back of her mind that Elsie planned ahead and nixed the corset this morning.

“If you think I’m getting’ down on the ground for this, Elsie Hughes, you’ll be in for nothin’ but disappointment.”

Absently Sarah raises her hands to the buttons of her coat, nervously runs her tongue over her lips. Elsie ignores her and slides pins from her hair, and Sarah wants to do that, wants to undo everything and slide her fingers into that hair. She’ll tug, sharp enough to get Elsie to yelp and then hitch her legs up around Sarah’s hips…

Elsie takes advantage of Sarah’s distraction and crosses the wretched little hollow in three sure strides, her thin shift rippling in the air (Sarah thinks of fairy gowns woven of spidersilk, of moonlight, of mortal needs) and there’s another set of hands batting hers away from the buttons, finishing the work in a matter of moments.

“I’ll get sticks in me hair.”

This last plaintive mutter is also ignored and Sarah lets her coat be taken from her shoulders, hurries up with her blouse so she can be with Elsie, feel her skin on hers; Elsie’s already fiddling with her skirt, her hands steady were Sarah’s are clumsy. Her fingers are slapped at when she reaches around for the workings of her corset- Sarah shivers when Elsie passes behind her, frees her from the garment (why does she wear the damned things still?). Sarah moans outright when Elsie kisses her just where her jaw meets her neck, sucking industriously as the corset’s disposed of.

Elsie’s hands press lightly over her stomach, travel slowly up to palm Sarah’s breasts; she pinches the rosy nipples, draws them into firm peaks as she kisses Sarah’s neck. For her part Sarah’s certain her knees are going to give out on her, and she’s more than happy to oblige when Elsie presses her lips to her ear and demands that she lie down.

The earth is a little damp and carries the sickly-sweet scent of rotting plantlife, but Sarah can’t think of that now, now while her fairy woman’s straddling her and pinning her hands to the ground.

“Didn’t I say your impatience wouldn’t serve you?”

Sarah honestly can’t remember at this point, but nods anyway and makes sure to look meek into the bargain, just in case Elsie likes that.

Elsie does. She gives a catlike smile and straightens up and hooks expert fingers into Sarah’s stockings and drags them down until the shapely legs are bare. She turns on Sarah’s chemise next, bunching the fabric up over her hips and dragging it up until her stomach’s exposed.

Sarah mewls and lifts her arms, catches the ends of Elsie’s hair between her fingertips.

“Elsie, I want…”

“You may want, but you shall not have. Not this time.”

It feels like something out of a surreal dream when Elsie gathers up Sarah’s abandoned stockings and binds her wrists, ties them to an exposed root just over her head. She’s vulnerable now, and it’s a strange sea to be sailing because Elsie has _never_ done something like this to her in the three years they’ve been together- it’s Sarah who leads, Sarah who teases and bosses until they’re both limp and happy.

All thoughts are driven to the far back of her mind when Elsie bows over her and suckles at her neck, her hands sliding over Sarah’s belly and clutching at her lifting hips.

“That’s nice.” Sarah mutters, curling her toes; wordlessly Elsie drags her mouth from Sarah’s neck, down over her collarbone, over the soft slopes of her breasts. Sarah gasps at the feeling of heat, of electricity that follows in the wake of her woman’s mouth and her legs part in welcome as Elsie draws near.

There’s no time to dally, it seems; Elsie slides Sarah’s knickers down her legs and parts her at once, flicking her tongue up the length of her slit, chuckling in triumph when Sarah’s hips jerk in response.

“Easy, aren’t you?”

With a wicked grin Elsie dips her head between Sarah’s thighs and sets her tongue to work, flicking the tip of her tongue up, up, up over Sarah’s flesh- a teasing gesture, something to lay the groundwork. Sarah sighs and yelps and, for God’s sake, _giggles_ as Elsie laps at her, diligent as she ever is. Sarah’s starting to think that, perhaps, they ought to add this to their repertoire once they’re back in civilization.

Elsie sucks harder at her clit, dragging her tongue up and over the little nub with torturous slowness. Sarah’s cries grow high and ragged, her hips bucking up from the damp earth as her pleasure builds inside her- that glorious heat is mounting with every touch, and Sarah’s body tightens in anticipation.

“God, Elsie, please, jus’ _please_ please please…”

She’s raving, and Elsie presses harder still with her tongue, rubs at Sarah’s tender flesh until she’s _there_ , just _there_ at that edge and she just needs a little more, please God just a little more Elsie-

Elsie pulls back, thwarting Sarah’s orgasm at the very last moment and leaving her to gasp and ache in the dirt, picked apart and abandoned.

“Wh-what? What’s wrong? Why’d you do that?” Sarah demands. Elsie only smiles, and Christ there’s _teeth_ in it this time. She sets to work again, thrusting her tongue between Sarah’s folds as her thumb rubs at her clit and Sarah’s soon at the edge again, her thighs shaking on either side of Elsie but no, not this time either, for Elsie leans back at the critical moment, looks up at Sarah and licks the evidence of the younger woman’s arousal from her lips.

The third time she does it Sarah’s actually near tears and begging, please please please Elsie. The Scot contemplates her lover’s ragged breathing and desperate eyes, and her smile is gentle this time.

“Alright, Sarah, alright.”

Elsie grips Sarah’s hips and drags her forward, sliding her hands over Sarah’s thighs and slowly spreading them apart. She lays her body over Sarah’s, moaning quietly as her nipples brush hers and Sarah opens her legs wider still to cradle Elsie’s waist- above her head, Sarah flexes her fingers and thinks of slipping her bonds and letting her palms slide over Elsie’s flushed skin- yet she doesn’t.

This is what Elsie wants.

The older woman slides her arm under Sarah’s captive hands, curves it affectionately over her head as she leans her weight on it and looks down into the younger woman’s face. With her free hand, she reaches down and slides her fingers over her own sex.

“Legs up, darling.”

Sarah obeys, lifts her legs and clasps them around Elsie’s hips, squeezes her tightly. Elsie’s parted herself, and Sarah whimpers as her woman carefully presses her sex down over hers, center to center.

“Elsie.”

The kiss is a slow one this time, a leisurely exploration, and Sarah gasps into Elsie’s mouth when she rolls her hips, her clit rubbing exquisitely over Sarah’s.

“Oh, God.”

“I’ve not done this from the top.” Elsie pants, her lips parted and trembling as she rocks forward a _gain_. She raises her spare hand and touches Sarah’s cheek, gently caressing as she finds her rhythm. Sarah gives herself up to it, slips her hands free of Elsie’s bonds and gets to hold her at last, her fingers knotting in that dark soft hair. She tugs Elsie down, kisses her, kisses her again.

“Love you.” Elsie whispers and they both cry out with the next thrust of her hips. Their climax builds between them, and Sarah thinks in a mad moment that they might become one woman, seared together by the heat of their love making.

They climb together, Elsie reaching a frantic, erratic pace as they grow closer and closer with every second. Sarah’s screaming now, her voice carrying high into the branches as her Elsie rocks forward a final time and they plunge into it together, bodies wracked by the shared molten moment.

After what seemed like a very long time, Sarah gently cradled Elsie’s head to her breast and kissed her damp hair.

“Love _you,_ you barbarian.”

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Elsie Hughes or Sarah O'Brien. 
> 
> This work takes place away from Downton Abbey. This work is in fact merely a part of a larger series based around O'Hughes and their new life together.


End file.
